Oh Captain, My Captain
by Ninja Stealth Noise
Summary: A series of events in which Jack Sparrow crosses paths with a Tortuga girl once in a while turns into a story about them being stuck together. The title is a poem by Walt Whitman.
1. In Which Two Complete Strangers Meet

Oh Captain, My Captain

In Which Two Complete Strangers Meet For The Very First Time

16-year-old Jack Christopher Sparrow looked out to the horizon restlessly. He was growing tired of land. _What must it be like to sail the seven seas forever, _he constantly wondered. When he'd told his mother that he didn't blame his father for leaving her to be a sailor, she scoffed and cuffed him over the head. 'No sense in bein' sea-sick your whole life through,' she'd say. He paid no mind to his mother. What was a loose woman to know about anything? The whole town thought the same thing.

On Jack's seventeenth birthday, he decided to 'stop wondering so damn much', as his mother put it, and went to find out what sailing the seven seas was like for himself. Drafting himself onto a rusted cargo ship, Jack spent his first two months at sea getting sea-sick and staggering under heavy loads. Soon enough, though, Jack became accustomed to the rolling of the ship, the never-ending workload, the heat. He was becoming a real sailor.

Real sailor or not, Jack had always been a sneak. He was used to getting what he wanted; bargaining, tricking, or stealing to reach his goal. After four months on the ship, he began stealing regularly from is shipmates. Contrary to popular belief, not all sailors are stupid, so it didn't take long for the more intelligent members of the crew to realize that Jack was the only person from which nothing had been stolen. Upon confirming that Jack was the thief, the entire ship's company had unceremoniously and literally dropped young Jack at the next port they came by. One might think that it was an ironic twist of fate that the sailors who so hated thieves dropped Jack off at a place that would inspire him to grow to become one of the worst kinds of thieves in the Caribbean: a pirate. The port that the sailors left him at was none other than the pirate-infested Tortuga.

There was another young whelp in Tortuga that night. Amongst the dancing women in colorful skirts and flying petticoats, there was one ugly duckling: Desireé Morrigan. Actually, she wouldn't be called ugly. She was really fairly pretty. In fact, standing at about 5'6", with almond-shaped green eyes and caramel colored hair that was always in a braid, she was as pretty as the dancers and prostitutes surrounding her. The only real difference was her plain white skirt, lack of make-up, and the fact that she was doing no dancing. Desireé had been a bartender at the Sailor's Fancy for two years. The daughter of a nurse and a privateer (who later on carry into piracy), she spent her early years in Lankfordshire, England. Her mother taught her basic medical skills and her father showed her the ways of a ship and a sword. No other little girl was as fortunate as Desireé, not even the rich ones.

Life was not to be kind to Desireé forever. The day of her 14 birthday, she heard her father yelling and her mother sobbing in the tea room. Her parents burst out of the room just as Desireé had hid herself behind a large and leafy potted plant. The couple were hollering violently at each other, her father with two large bags at his sides and her mother with tears running down her face and down to her bosom. The frightened girl watched as her daddy dearest marched out of the door and out of her life. Unfortunately, without her father's money, she and her mother had no choice but to sell their home. Even more unfortunately, her mother soon developed a new love for rum. Desireé's family had fallen apart.

One day, Desireé's mother hit an all-time low. On a rare shopping trip, she had found a dingy, black carriage to ride to town in. Desireé was given a leg up into it, but her mother did not follow. The carriage door slammed shut, and the confused girl heard a business transaction going on outside. She'd been sold. Sold to an illegal slave driver who was to sell her again in the faraway Caribbean, as she would soon discover.

Luck decided to deal her one good card. Her employer was a somewhat kind one who did not require a dancer, but a bartender. Desireé took the job gratefully and learned to forget her past.

Despite the fact that she was being paid to handle alcohol, she did not have the stomach for it. Just a mug of ale would send her reeling, and a mug of rum would send her sprinting for the privy, or the "heave-ho" as some sailors put it. Still, she loved her job.

Two years later, she was swamped by slurred orders and drunken pick-up lines. It was a busy day at the Sailor's Fancy tavern. There were catfights, barfights, and any other kind of fight you can imagine. At the end of the night, Desireé was all but panting. Two men, a piglet, and a chair were thrown at her with surprising accuracy from a bunch of drunkards. Her head was aching from the noise and multiple hits that it had taken. Whilst cleaning the bar counter, a boy about her age stumbled in. He was tall, dark, and decidedly handsome, but his features were marred by blood, dirt, and a sheen of sweat. He was panting. None-too-astonished by his condition (people looked like this all the time in Tortuga), she went to fetch a glass of rum and a cool cloth. He collapsed onto a chair and laid his head on the bar counter. She set down the glass of rum and placed the cool cloth on the nape of his neck. He didn't react. She shook him slightly, causing him to jerk and sit up.

"Who did this to ya'" said Desireé in her strong Lanky accent (which is kind of like a Cockney accent).

"Me shipmates," the boy answered, looking down at the gritty wooden counter. He took a gulp of rum and grimaced as it burned his throat.

"Wha's that?" he asked.

"S'rum," she replied. She moved the cloth to his forehead and wiped off the blood, sweat, and grime, all the while asking questions.

"How old are you?"

"17."

"I'm 16. Why your shipmates beat you up?"

"I stole some things from 'em."

"Ah. You've been sailin' fer long?"

"Nah, less'n a year."

"Watcha gonna do now?"

"Dunno."

"You should stay at our inn fer a while," she offered. He nodded. Suddenly he looked up at her and started to ask a few questions of his own.

"Wha's a lass like you doin' 'ere?"

"Me dad left and me mum sold me off," Desireé said honestly.

"Sorry 'bout that."

"S'okay."

"Wha's yer name?"

"Desireé Morrigan."

"Well, Desi," she smiled when he said her name like that, "I'm Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

And so they met for the very first time.

END.


	2. In Which Our Hero Gets Drunk

**Oh Captain, My Captain**

In Which Our Hero Gets Drunk and Barely Remembers Our Heroine

Jack Sparrow had left the Sailor's Fancy after three days. Contact between him and his angel of mercy was limited to a few awkward conversations from time to time. He bid Desireé Morrigan goodbye with a noncommittal tip of the hat, walking out of the bar with a straight, determined gait. She didn't mind. Long, drawn out goodbyes between two acquaintances weren't all that common, anyways.

Fours years later she turned twenty, which was, in Tortuga, a coming of age. The most pious of men(who weren't really that pious, or they wouldn't be three leagues near Tortuga anyways) would no longer feel any guilt when staring at a girl if she was twenty, nor would any prostitute bite back catty insults that young girls shouldn't hear. Basically, now that she was a proper adult, no one cared about her anymore.

"Girl! Fetch the keg!"

"Girl! Feed the swine!"

"Get me some whisky, girl!"

Desireé obeyed each command, served every order without question.

"Gimme a rum, girl!"

"Rum, wench!"

"Hand over the rum, barmaid!"

"How's about some rum, luv?"

At _these _words, Desireé looked up. Their less commanding tone had shocked her slightly, but she shook it off. Handing him the fifty-seventh mug of rum she'd served that night, he took it with a noncommittal tip of the hat. He was about to take a gulp when Scarlett, one of the more forward prostitutes (compared to other prostitutes, which would make her insanely forward) came crashing into his lap.

"Jaaaaaaack!" she squealed, her high-pitched whine causing Desireé to cringe.

"Captain," the man called Jack corrected irritably, "_Captain _Jack Sparrow."

At these words, Desireé looked up once again. The name sounded familiar…

_Of course_… Desireé remembered that encounter four years ago after a few second's thought. She opened her mouth to ask if he was really that wounded boy she'd met that night so long ago, but Scarlett decided to run her trap a little while longer.

"Well, Captain, I'm flattered! Leavin' the Faithful Bride all fer me!"

"Actually, luv, I came 'cuz there's a bit of a brawl concerning me goin' on in said tavern."

Scarlett's rouge-tinted lips went slack in a frown. She raised her hand and slapped him with all the force she could muster. His face flew to the side rather comically.

"Not sure I deserved that," he muttered darkly. Desireé snorted in a slightly more feminine way than one would normally snort and said,

"Scarlett's a bit aggressive, ain't she?" Jack turned to her. He took in her face, hair, and slight curves, sporting a strange, slightly drunken expression.

"D'you remember me?"

"Hmm. You look familiar, 'ave I, uh, _plundered _you before?" He smirked at his bad joke. She shook her head.

"Once you came in 'ere all beat up. D'you remember that night?" His face screwed up in a weirdly fetching way, and then his eyes grew wider.

"Yes, I do. Were you that lass what threw me down the stairs fer liftin' 'er skirt?"

"No," she replied with a smirk.

"Ahhh, you fixed me up, didn't ya?"

"S'right." She took in the bandana covering his head, his hair was matted and just barely reached his shoulders. The proffered hand was covered in rings and a strip of cloth was wrapped round his palm. There were a few hairs she could see on his chest, his loose shirt having a somewhat steep, v-shaped neckline. She shook his hand and spoke again,

"You've grown up a bit."

"You've grown too," Jack said bluntly, admiring her fully bloomed physique. Twasn't much, really, just a curved hip and a moderate chest. Nonetheless, he looked like he was enjoying the view. Desireé felt more violated by him than any other dirty-eyed man in the tavern. Jack had downed his entire mug and asked for another. As she filled his mug again, she decided that she couldn't believe her eyes. Was the man, probably a pirate, sitting before her _really_ the boy who cringed at the taste of rum from all those years ago?

_Who knows, _she thought to herself, _people change._

An hour and four bottles of rum later, Jack was beginning to act tipsy. Well, more tipsy than he already acted. He was yelling out various profanity and making clumsy passes at random men. After he called some burly man a eunuch, the entire bar decided enough was enough. Two of the most able-bodied men in the place approached Jack, positively radiating annoyance.

"Listen, lads, I-" Jack started and hiccoughed before he could finish. The men picked him up and carried him, kicking and hollering and all, to the door.

"Lads , 'e didn't mean no 'arm-" But Jack was thrown out of the tavern before Desireé could argue further.

And so ended the second encounter between Desireé Morrigan and Ja-..._Captain_ Jack Sparrow.

End.

There you go, people! In response to reviews:

Allyburner: thanks for that critique. I realize the conversation could sound lame, I just figured that they would be a bit awkward and more straightforward if they were strangers. Thanks for the comment!

Captain Jacquotte Turner: Nice name, hehe. Looked at your homepage, I loooove Wicked!

Lady Venya of the isle: Again, nice name. I read your King Kong oneshot, I liked it.


	3. In Which Our Heroine Is Disappointed

Oh Captain, My Captain

Chapter 3: In Which Our Heroine Is Disappointed For A Somewhat Selfish Reason

"Hello Jack."

Desireé Morrigan had (secretly) had the pleasure of uttering those words when her childhood acquaintance sashayed drunkenly into the lesser-known pub one drizzly morning.

"Ahoy, Desi," Jack said, lighting up when he saw her. Of course, it was probably brought on by drunkenness and/or hope that she'd finally become a prostitute.

"What can I getcha?" She asked good naturedly, already reaching for the rum. She'd found after countless, minute-long encounters that he'd drink little else.

"Why would ye ask tha'? Yer already thinkin' "rum", so what's the point? Why not just pour the damn grog and screw courtesy?" She chuckled at his muddled logic.

"I shan't "screw courtesy" because despite my dress, job, and living situation, I am a lady!" She neared the end of her sentence with a laugh in her voice and a sparkle in her eye. He looked her over for a moment, as though thinking.

"Wha's in that mind o' yers?" She inquired, "C'mon, whatchoo thinkin' about?"

"Beddin' ye," he purred, somewhat comically due to his intoxication. Instead of being amused, however, her face dropped.

"I'm not fallin' for that again," she warned quietly, "Talk like that 'as caused enough trouble."

He looked out into space, a picture of someone deep in thought. He remembered what she was talking about after a few seconds, and then nodded silently.

"Aye, that is 'as." Desireé felt an awkward silence fast approaching, and so quickly changed the subject.

"So look at ye! Beads in yer hair, dirty as a mule…what, have ye turned pirate?"

Silence.

"H-..have ye?"

"I 'ave, Desi." Desireé felt somewhat disappointed. Somewhat in him, but she guessed that his time here and his talent for steal- er, commandeering, would steer him down that path. What she was _really_ disappointed about was that she'd see him less now that he was a pirate. He'd always be away, pillaging and plundering.

_Stop it now, _she'd thought, _ye sound like an old married lady._

She willed herself to be happy for him, after all, he was…would have been…the father of her baby.

End.

I didn't wanna make this too long, cuz I figured that their encounters would sometimes be really short. I'll update soon as I can!

Wahhh Tchaaaa!

Ninja Stealth Noise


	4. In Which Our Hero Asks Our Heroine

Oh Captain, My Captain

Chapter 4: In Which Our Hero Our Heroine A Very Important Question.

_His eyes as she told him her news were the sight that ripped her heart to shreds. They were horrified, they were harsh, they were fierce and brave and strong. He wouldn't stay for the baby; a part of her had always known he wouldn't. _

_Still, on the morning she had discovered that she was with child, she couldn't help but convince herself that there was a chance her child would have a father. The three months that she searched for Jack to tell him the news were filled with fantasies about the family that she would have. _

_If it was a girl, she would name her Giselle, after her best friend in the whole of Tortuga. She would braid her little girl's hair and teach her how to cook and identify stars just as her father and mother had done. Perhaps Jack would teach her how to sew, he was better at it on account of mending endless sheets, or so he complained. _

_If it was a boy, she would name him Lysander or Samuel, she couldn't decide. Jack would tell him to be strong and brave, and she would teach him to respect women and never, ever go to a strange woman for…nighttime comfort, as she and Jack called it. _

_Time passed, and before she found Jack, Jack found her. _

_He swaggered in, taller and more swashbuckling than ever before, and she took the time to notice every trinket in his hair, each new bead and coin and shell. His bandana was tattered but still eye-catching, and his eyes were lined with more kohl than her own were. _

"'_Ello Desi," Jack said, arms wide. She suddenly felt very, truly nervous. It felt like spiders were crawling in her stomach, and for a horror-struck moment, she felt faint. _

_His eyes as she told him her news were the sight that ripped her heart to shreds. They were horrified, they were harsh, they were fierce and brave and strong. _

Desireé quickly shook her anguished thoughts away, feeling them disintegrate like paper in water. She would no longer allow those memories to haunt her. Besides, it was _she_ that forced her own miscarriage, not Jack. No, Jack was innocent for once in his life. In all their years of friendship –and two years of something more- she never once found a reason to hate him. Not once.

It was never his intention to start a family and settle down, she knew that. She found a way to keep her feelings for him at bay, and after that, there was no conversation on the matter. After all, they barely knew each other, despite years of encounters.

"Desi? Desi? Desireé!" She felt herself plummeting down to Earth and out of her mind, way up high. She looked into Captain Jack Sparrow's eyes and saw a glimmer of confusion peeking out of the mass of excitement and drunken glaze.

"Are you coming with me or not?" She took a moment to remember what he'd asked of her a minute before…

_Ah, yes,_ she recalled, _'e wants me to go with 'im and find some key._

"Jack," she started, "Why d'you need me?"

"'Cause," he answered, a picturesque smirk on his tanned face, "You're my friend. I want to see you more than once every five months."

She smiled a little. In her mind, she knew he had ulterior motives, but her heart was too excited at the prospect of leaving Tortuga to listen to her instincts.

"Well, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow," she said somewhat mockingly, "I believe I will come with you." His face broke into a grin.

"Grand."

END.


	5. In Which Our Heroine Says Goodbye

Oh Captain, My Captain

In Which Our Heroine Says Goodbye

I know not many people don't really care about this little fic, but to the people that do, I would be very much obliged if you could show a little appreciation –cough-review-cough-

Desireé was a bit apprehensive toward the journey. In true cliché fashion, she felt scared, excited, sad, happy and a plethora of other emotions all at once.

On the was to her best friend Giselle's "house"-which was really just the basement of a brothel- she imagined the adventures that she and Jack had had and would have together. She carried on in her typical daydreaming manner until…

_Thump!_

She walked into something and, looking up from the ground, saw that it was the door to the brothel that she was traveling to. Keeping the blush out of her cheeks as mocking laughter reached her ears, she slipped inside with only the creak of the battered door to announce her arrival.

_Knock knock knock! _

A second battered door gave a second creak as Giselle opened it.

"Oh," Giselle said, faking disappointment, "I thought yeh were someone else."

"Yeh would," Desireé laughed. Giselle grinned and giggled, dragging Desireé into her "room".

"Ye'll nevah guess wha' I said to _Jack Sparrow_ last nigh'!" Giselle gushed in her crackly, girlishly raspy voice. The mention of Jack piqued Desireé's interest.

"Whatchoo say?"

"Well," Giselle was fighting to keep her giggles down, "Yeh remember that time a couple years ago?"

Desireé could remember…

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"_Scarlet!" _

_**Slap!**_

_Desireé watched from afar as Jack's head was sent flying to his right. Muttering to himself, he noticed Giselle. She, always a loyal friend, was furious that after two days of leaving Desireé, he was up and about again._

"'_oo was she?" She asked venomously. Before Jack had a chance to explain-_

_**Slap!**_

_And it made Desirea feel better when she heard him mutter to a handsome man at his side,_

"_I may 'ave deserved that."_

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"Anyways, Jack came to my door for a bit o' fun," Giselle stopped to snicker, "and I said-I told 'im…hahaha…I told 'im that I was pregnant and that it was 'is…"

As Giselle collapsed in a fit of laughter, Desireé felt her giddiness subside. Desireé had not told her about her failed pregnancy by Jack, and she was still not over it.

"'E bolted like that bloody Gibbs when a black cat crossed 'is path! Anyways, I'd nevah sleep around wiv' 'im, seein' as e's still 'ye're man'! It'd be against the Escorts' Code, it would!"

"Giselle…" Desireé started, "I have to tell yeh somethin'"

"What's it, luv?"

"Jack asked me to go on a voyage wiv' im'"

"Oh," Giselle said, this time not _acting_ disappointed. She recovered in a moment, her yellowed smile returning to her made-up face.

"Oh, Reé, tha's grand innit? Ye'll 'ave Jack and tha' 'andsome Will Turner I've 'eard about!"

"Aye," Desirea said sadly, "T'will be grand."

_Knock knock knock!_

"What?" Giselle turned towards the door, her hand immediately flying to her blonde locks, "S'it evenin' already? Well, my li'l pork sausage, company's arrived!"

As Desireé was ushered out of Giselle's abode, she saw that the man knocking was somewhat squat and clean-cut, wearing a noble's wig (probably stolen recently, considering its condition and the fact that no real noble would be caught dead in a Tortuga brothel.

"'Ey, Giselle, ye'll come to the docks to see me off, won't yeh?"

All she heard in return was heavy breathing and an aroused chuckle from a complete stranger. She took it as a "yes".

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As Desirea had hoped, Giselle came to the docks to say goodbye. As they embraced tightly, Giselle was reduced to tears, and Desirea was finding it difficult to keep from crying along with her.

_S'all right, old girl, not to worry, _she convinced herself, _ye'll see Giselle again…_

"Ready to make way, Desi?" She wrenched herself from her friend's grasp and saw an odd smile on Jack's face. He was hiding something. He was never a good liar when it came to "women matters" as he called it.

"Ready as I'll ever be, Jack."

"Captain, Desi, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow." The pirate corrected earnestly. Giselle and Desirea both sighed bemsedly.

"_Captain _Jack." An awkward moment chose to settle, but was broken when a fresh wave of tears flooded Giselle, causing her to lunge at Desireé's neck and hold her.

"I'll miss yeh!" she sobbed. Desireé nodded and took her friend by the hands.

"I'll come back for yeh," she said softly. They hugged each other fiercely until Jack tugged Desireé away. Giselle nodded and backed away, disappearing in the moonlit fog. Jack gestured gallantly (well, as gallantly as a pirate could) toward the Black Pearl; the ship that Desirea had searched for on the horizon every day.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

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End.

I'd very much appreciate some reviews, people! kthxbye.


	6. In Which Our Heroine Gets Truly Wasted

Oh Captain, My Captain

In Which Our Heroine Gets Truly Wasted

Hey, I'm back with the next chapter! Hope you've not been anxiously waiting…

Captain Ella Raven: Yes, Desireé did force her own miscarriage because of Jack's reaction. I meant for that to be obvious, but looking back, I realized that the point was a bit elusive. Sorry…

To everyone that reviewed with encouragement for other chapters, I thank you.

I'm sorry to the few of you that read this story. I've been so busy with my two more important stories, and honestly, I don't feel any motivation anymore. Please review if you read this story, it will make all the difference.

Anyways, here's my latest chapter…

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"You'll be stayin' in the Capn's quarters wiv' me," Jack said smoothly, as if it were every woman's dream to have to sleep in the same bed as Captain Jack Sparrow. (AN: Which, of course, it is!)

"Oh no I won't," Desireé replied, not wanting to be tempted by Jack any longer, "I'll sooner stay in the brig."

"Well, if you're so set against it," Jack answered, sounding slightly disappointed, "I s'pose I'd better tell the crew t' make room fer ye."

"Aye, that'll be fine." Desireé was slightly apprehensive toward sleeping near a crew of thieves and scallywags, but she was ready to accept it.

The pair of them walked along the docks 'till they reached a magnificent ship, dark and forbidding. Desireé was entranced.

"The Black Pearl?"

"Aye, the very same," Jack puffed up proudly, "Shall we?"

He called up to some of his crew, who threw two thick ropes down.

"Stupid blighter!" he shouted, and then to Desireé, "That's no way for a lady to climb aboard."

Desireé gasped as Jack threw her over his shoulder and began scaling the wall.

_Whatever 'appened to a damned gangplank, _she thought to herself. As soon as they reached the deck, Jack swung himself over the rail, successfully scaring the hell out of Desireé.

Taking a deep breath and throwing Jack a scathing glare, she straightened herself and looked around. A motley crew of wobbly-legged, rum soaked pirates bustled around her, climbing rigging and swabbing the deck and all manners of ship-maintenance. Jack led her by the small of her back to a portly man who was sleeping at the helm.

"Desi, this is…er…me loyal and…always…aware…" Jack gave the man a sharp kick in the shin, waking him instantly and causing Desireé to gasp and laugh at the same time, "Me first mate, Joshamee Gibbs."

As the pained Gibbs looked to blink blearily at the pair, Desireé gasped again.

"Mr. Gibbs?" Gibbs looked in her general direction, but focused on her face after a moment.

"Desireé? Desireé, love? Mother an' child, it is ye," he exclaimed. He stood upright and embraced her like an uncle would to his favorite niece.

"You two are, erm, acquainted?" Jack asked, seeing only one way they could know each other. The pair picked up on this and sprang apart.

"Jack!" Desireé cried.

"Cap'n!" Gibbs exclaimed.

"Then 'ow? 'Ow are you two acquainted if not by the means which I thought you were?" Desireé sighed at Jack's one-track mind.

"More our business than yers, innit, Jack? Besides, ye know I'm no prostitute," she drawled. In fact, she and Gibbs had met one night when he saved her from a man who thought she _was_ indeed a prostitute, but Jack was not to know that.

Jack was disappointed at the lack of information, but quickly turned to other matters. Taking hold of Desireé's waist, he swaggered down to the deck with his free arm lolling about as though attached to a marionette string.

"So, love, ye sure about sleepin' with the crew?" Looking around her, Desireé was gripped with apprehension. Jack sensed this even with his drunken mind and assumed a comical thinking expression.

"The crow's nest," he stated. She looked up at said crow's nest, way at the top of the tallest mast.

"J-Jack, how am I supposed to-?"

"Don' worry, ye'll fit jus' fine."

"But Jack-"

"It's not too cold up there, either-"

"Jack!"

"Wha'?"

"I was askin' about how I would crawl _up_ there-"she began, but thought better of it. It was better than sleeping with the crew, and _much_ better than sleeping in Captain Jack's quarters.

"Ne'er ye mind," she said. Jack nodded somewhat unsteadily.

"Then ye're to be our new watchman…woman…person, savvy?"

"Savvy," she answered. He looked at her in a strange way all of a sudden. Desireé searched for the difference in his kohl-lined eyes, but found none. Was he looking at her that way the entire time? No, she surely would have noticed it.

"Desi, 'ow's about ye havin' a drink with the crew? I 'ave some business to see about on shore," Jack said. Desireé faltered; what business?

"More my business than yers, innit, Desi?" Jack taunted, knowing she was curious about what he had to do. Feeling utterly drawn to the joyful drinking that some of Jack's crew was in the middle of, Desireé nodded. Jack nodded back and swaggered off backwards, keeping her in his view for a few more awkward seconds.

_So, rum or rum? _Desireé asked herself as she made her way to the small group of drinking buddies.

"Mind if I join ye?" she asked, sitting down with them before she received an answer, "Pass the grog."

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As Jack made his way back to land –particularly the Faithful Bride- with Gibbs and a small number of his crew, he thought about his latest encounter with his Desi. A certain part of him felt awful about his plan for the pair of them, but for the most part, he was just scared for his own skin.

"Cap'n," Gibbs said, "Ye really believe fer a second tha' Davy Jones'll believe yer married?"

"Why not? I'm dashing, handsome, brave-"

"Daft, brash, and a complete drunk," Gibbs interrupted, but shrank back when Jack's offended gaze swung to him, "In the best sense, o' course. But Cap'n, d'ye really think tha' the sea Himself will hesitate to turn ye into the seaswine what works 'is Flying Dutchman jus' 'cause ye say yer married?"

"Hmmm," Jack thought about this new doubt for a moment, "Yes."

He finally made his grand entrance into a relatively quiet tavern –that is, no barfights- and took a seat on the base of a large pillar. Gibbs sat behind a large table and put up a sign which read: Croo fer Blak Perl Needed. A sizeable line was formed in a matter of minutes, a fact which made Jack smile. The smile was quickly gone as his mind turned back toward Desireé. Her life was in danger because of him. If he went along with his plan and presented her to Davy Jones as his wife, he might be saved from a century in salty, briny hell. Then again, Davy Jones was a cold and ruthless…man…thing. What if he simply took the both of them and forced the two into salty, briny hell anyway?

Was it worth the risk? Was his own life more important than his former lover's?

Jack wondered if his compass could tell him. Opening the device and shutting his eyes, he muttered to himself.

"I know what I want, I know what I want, I know what I want…"

He looked down at the compass's point, which was pointing to a strange man making considerably deliberate passes at the barman. Hardly a bankable heading. Jack sighed to himself and turned to his first mate.

"How're we goin'?"

"Includin' those four, that gives us…four."

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Meanwhile, back on the Pearl, Desireé was having a grand time with the crew, laughing and singing at the top of her lungs. She knew she was piss-drunk, but everyone else was, too. What was there to worry about?

"Da-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-naa…and really bad eggs…DRINK UP ME 'EARTIES, YO HO!"

The entire ship's company took a long swig of rum applauded. Desireé felt her hands missing each other more than a few times. The sky had painted itself a dark, inky blue stained with streaks of bloody red and brilliant gold on the horizon by this time.

"Y'know what that looks like?" Desireé drawled to the nearest pirate.

"Wha'" the pirate asked, draping his arm around her shoulder to steady himself.

"Look's like the sun's bleedin' on the ocean. The moon's the cap'n now…"

She and the pirate laughed heartily until he collapsed onto the floor. She looked around to the rest of the crew, and burst into tears. Gibbs, who'd just returned from the Faithful Bride retaining about half of his sobriety, came over to her.

"In the name o' mother an' child, heart, wha's wrong?"

"Jaaaack…why isn't 'e with meee?"

"The Cap'n's on the dock now, 'e'll be 'ere soon," Gibbs answered soothingly. He seemed to have an experience with calming drunken women.

"He-'e said we'd be together on this journey, and 'e's gone a-and left!" Desireé wailed. She was ignorant of her making a spectacle in front of the crew; even the most drunken pirate on the ship felt embarrassed for her. She continued to bawl until the sound of Jack's boots followed him to the deck of the Pearl.

As soon as Desireé saw him, she felt all her tears dry up as her anger heated up.

"JACK!" She stood from her former crouch and stumbled over to him. A sick-looking man in a filthy naval uniform standing by Jack regarded her in a slightly shocked and completely disgusted manner.

"What'sa matter, Desi?"

"Y-ye said we'd be together! Ye said! Ye p-promised!"

"Desi, I'm right here," Jack replied, astonished. He'd never seen her as drunk as she was.

"N-no! I mean _with _me! Y-you couldn't bear to have a child, could ye!? I killed it, 'cause o' ye! I hate ye Jack Sparrow! HATE YE!" Jack raised his eyebrows and bent down. Before anyone could inquire as to what he was doing, he'd picked Desireé up and hoisted her over his shoulder. In front of a couple dozen slowly sobering men, he made his way toward his quarters.

He slammed the door behind him and dropped the still-kicking-and-screaming Desireé onto his bed.

"It's this baby business again, innit?"

"Yes, J-Jack, I love babies…" Desireé replied, having forgotten the train of conversation in her rum-induced stupor.

"Desi, ye know why I 'ad to leave ye."

"N-no, I don't. Please…" Desireé trailed off in the middle of her statement.

"I am a pirate, Desi. A pirate. Wha's a pirate to do wiv' a baby? Teach it to shove a blade up me arse before it can even 'old up it's own 'ead?"

Desireé felt the cloud of inebriation disperse, ever so slowly. She was still quite drunk when she replied,

"I could come wiv' ye. Jackie, I coulda-"

"No, I may be as horrid and selfish as the damned navy says, but I will not have you on this ship."

"Do ye love me, Jackie?"

"Jack. S'Jack."

"Jack…" She felt herself getting angry now, "Do ye love me?"

The pirate captain looked shiftily from one side to another. After a tense moment, he stood and swaggered to his door.

"Think yerself over, Desi."

And Desireé did. She thought and thought, about Jack and their would-be baby and her new embarrassment and everything else. She was completely sober by the time the Pearl set sail, and twice as self-loathing. She remembered almost everything that had happened, and every time she recalled another shameful outburst, she buried her head further into Jack's pillow. His scent filled her head, and it was that smell that allowed her to ignore her pounding headache and fall asleep.

End.

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I hope you enjoyed that, it took a week to write on account of all the busyness of school. Review! And please tell me if Jack was a bit OC at the end, I have a feeling he was.

Wah Tchaaaa!

Ninja Stealth Noise


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